The two of them gathered the belongings from the fallen bodies in the ruins. There were a total of thirteen jade fragments, and fifteen Daoist temple hall artifacts. Among them, Liu Dao'an from the Longevity Sect alone had six jade fragments on him. Of all the Daoist temple hall artifacts, the one with the strongest divine aura was the ancient sword Liu Dao'an wielded. It was with this very sword that Liu Dao'an had activated a sword technique and killed three people from the southern frontier in one stroke. Chen Yang handed everything over to Li Yanchu, taking only one item from the body of the feng shui master, the Classic of Burial. This was an ancient text on feng shui that had already been lost since the third year of the founding emperor of the Kingdom of Qian. It was a sole surviving copy, likely the only one left in existence. Chen Yang couldn’t help feeling a bit uneasy; if Li Yanchu had struck just a moment earlier, this rare feng shui text might have been completely lost to the world. The two of them returned to the main hall of the Daoist temple hall to rest for the time being. A bundle appeared on Li Yanchu’s back. Inside it, he packed together all the divine-infused Daoist temple hall artifacts and jade fragments. They both gazed out into the distance, toward the earth-shaking sounds that had been ringing out all night. The terrifying roars eventually faded, leaving only the faint sound of Buddhist chanting. It seemed that a Buddhist master had succeeded in driving away the demonic force. Previously, when Chen Yang entered the Blissful Land, he had mentioned wanting Li Yanchu’s support, to lend him a hand during their time there. But after yesterday’s events, facing the demonic immortal apricot, the White Tiger formation, and the feng shui master, the dangers had been far beyond imagination. It was only thanks to Li Yanchu’s intervention that the certain death scenario had been broken. Yet now, early in the morning, Chen Yang announced his departure without giving a reason. However, Li Yanchu didn’t press him. Watching Chen Yang’s figure gradually disappear into the distance, a thoughtful look surfaced in Li Yanchu’s eyes. “After last night’s ordeal, the golden aura on this royal descendant has become even more intense. It seems he's about to rise to power.” Li Yanchu had just used his Qi Sight. The fate and destiny surrounding Chen Yang, this Court of Judicial Review officer and imperial scion, had clearly shifted. For royal descendants like him, blessed with natural fortune, it looked like he was about to advance to the next level and soar even higher. Li Yanchu shook his head lightly. He had no interest in getting involved in such mortal power struggles. Brother Chen clearly had a noble identity and a destiny too difficult to read. He was definitely not some down-and-out scion of nobility, but a true-blooded imperial heir, a hidden dragon lying in the depths. Li Yanchu didn’t pursue the matter further and instead continued on his way toward Mount Jinting. Chen Yang had gone off alone, most likely because he knew the location of some secret treasure, and feared that bringing Li Yanchu along might lead to losing his own fortune. Li Yanchu didn’t sneak after him either. He simply chose to press forward on his path. “Everyone has their own destiny.” Still, if they happened to cross paths again, he wouldn’t show mercy, that was all. While leaping across the vast ruins and ancient remains, Li Yanchu suddenly heard the sound of flowing water. Following the sound, he soon discovered a mighty river, roaring endlessly as it surged along. The river was immensely wide and so vast that the far bank couldn’t even be seen. Li Yanchu’s gaze turned serious. Approaching it, he realized the water didn’t seem any different from ordinary river water. It didn’t appear to be poisonous or corrosive at first glance. These past days, he had been consuming jujubes, which were sweet and nourishing, as well as filled with vibrant life force. He hadn’t needed food or drink at all. Besides, he had already mastered Daoist Fasting Arts, able to sustain himself on energy and breath alone. So even after fighting many battles in succession, he remained full of vigor and vitality, looking as radiant as ever. There was no pressing need to drink. He crouched by the riverside, pulled out a Plague-Dispelling Talisman, and stamped it against the water. The water immediately began to smoke, emitting a sharp, piercing hiss. This stuff is poisonous! Li Yanchu murmured inwardly. He then took a few jujube leaves from his Universe Pouch and tossed them into the river. The delicate leaves floated lightly for a moment before sinking, not melting or dissolving. Next, he tossed in a small tree branch, and it too sank the moment it touched the water. “This is just like the Flowing Sand River from Journey to the West,” Li Yanchu muttered in surprise. The River of Flowing Sands is eight hundred li wide, and the Weak Water is three thousand zhang deep. Even a goose feather cannot float, and a reed flower will surely sink to the bottom[1]. To suddenly encounter such a river in the midst of a ruined immortal Daoist sanctuary stirred a sense of desolate awe in Li Yanchu’s heart. He possessed Water-Repelling Talismans and could walk briefly on water using his footwork techniques. But staring at this river, he couldn’t help but feel a flicker of unease. Even wood sank in it. Though the water might not be impossible to cross on its own... To stumble upon a river in the middle of these ruins, it reeked of hidden danger. There could be something lurking beneath the surface: corpses, evil spirits, or vengeful souls. Just as he was hesitating, footsteps suddenly echoed in his ears. Turning his head, he saw two figures rushing over. One was a fat beggar with disheveled and filthy hair, who had a pair of remarkably bright eyes, brimming with divine light. The other was a middle-aged swordsman, wearing a brocade robe and carrying three long swords on his back. The two of them glanced at Li Yanchu from a distance, then came to a stop some way off. At this moment, Li Yanchu didn’t appear particularly fierce or imposing; instead, he looked just like an ordinary Daoist priest. Only a simple long saber hung at his waist, along with an octagonal bronze bell. The crisp sound of a bell rang in his ears, but it didn’t come from the bronze bell at Li Yanchu’s waist. It came from out on the river. Li Yanchu turned to look, and a small boat was drifting down the river. The sky was dim, and the waters cold and bleak. Amid the vast stretch of river, this lone boat was the only thing in sight. The boatman was a man with a cold, expressionless face, holding a Daoist ritual tool in his hand. It was a Soul-Summoning Bell. The little boat slowly approached the bank and came to a halt. The man made no movement and said nothing to Li Yanchu or the others. He simply stopped there, staying eerily still. The other two seemed to know the secret of this place and quickly stepped forward, Beating Li Yanchu to it, they boarded the boat directly. The cold-faced man shook the Soul-Summoning Bell in his hand and quietly pushed off. Before long, the three of them vanished into the mists of the great river. There had been no violent clashes, no chilling winds, and no trace of ghostly qi. Everything had looked ordinary, yet it left Li Yanchu deeply unsettled. He stood there in silence for a long time, watching the figures disappear into the distance. He neither tried to stop them, nor attempted to board the boat himself. ᴛʜɪs ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ɪs ᴜᴘᴅᴀᴛᴇ ʙʏ novel⁂fire.net It wasn’t that he was worried the boat wouldn’t reach the other shore, but rather, he had just noticed something. Those two who arrived weren’t living people at all. They were ghosts! Whether it was the bright-eyed fat beggar, or the stern middle-aged swordsman with swords on his back, both of them were souls! All mortals possess three souls and seven spirits; if startled under certain circumstances, they might lose a few of them, which could leave them dazed and muddled, until the lost soul fragments were retrieved. But those two just now were not like that. They were complete souls, yet clearly dead. They were only summoned by that cold-faced man using the Soul-Summoning Bell in his hand! They didn’t board the boat to cross the river; they were taken by that mysterious ferryman! Li Yanchu thought to himself in surprise. He had only found it a bit odd at first, so he activated Qi Sight and immediately spotted the truth. Li Yanchu stayed by the riverside and observed for an entire day. He discovered that this mysterious ferryman came once every two hours, and had already taken away three groups of people. All of them were souls of the dead! 1. This comes from Journey to the West (《西游记》). In Journey to the West, the River of Flowing Sand is one of the major obstacles that Tang Sanzang and his disciples encounter on their journey to the West to retrieve sacred scriptures. This verse foreshadows the many hardships they will face. The term “Weak Water” also has mythological significance in Chinese lore, it refers to a kind of mystical water so lacking in buoyancy that even feathers cannot float on it, symbolizing insurmountable difficulty or danger. ☜